Batman - Smoke and Mirrors
by SorenRayne
Summary: As Continued from Shadows & Secrets: A string of kidnappings in the oppressive summer heat of Gotham City has both the Police, and even Batman himself stumped. Now, with familiar faces both friend and foe popping up, the questions are piling up with no answers in sight. can the World's greatest detective solve this before he loses someone close to him?
1. Chapter 1

**Batman**

Smoke & Mirrors

**Chapter 1**

The notorious and unforgiving metropolis of Gotham City found itself in the firm grip of summer, its denizens still managing to thrive under the oppressive heat that permeated both day and night.

Commissioner Jim Gordon stood, his back against the wall of an office building, gun in hand. The derelict tenement building around the corner had been identified as the hideout of a local lowlife who just might have a lead on the string of mysterious kidnappings that had been plaguing the department for the past three months. Gordon knew that backup was nearby, just in case things went bad, but for the most part, he was on his own for this one.

The exterior of the building was covered in graffiti of every color, most of it indecipherable after years of being painted over. The door was just as old as the building itself, barely hanging onto its hinges. It was thankfully silent as Gordon pushed it open, a wave of mildew and rotting wood odors assaulting his nostrils. Every step up the ancient wooden stairway became a struggle, trying desperately to avoid a creak or groan from the prehistoric planks. Gordon wiped beads of sweat from his brow and wiped his hand on his trousers before steadying his grip on the reliable six-shooter.

After an agonizingly slow ascent to the fifth floor, Gordon finally found himself standing on front of room 505. With any luck, his rat was nestled inside, blissfully ignorant of the situation that was about to come crashing down on his empty head. Gordon took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. A thousand variations of what was about to happen ran through his head, most of them with unpleasant endings. He shoved them out of his mind and tightened his grip on the gun, raising it in front of him.

The door exploded inward, flying off the hinges as Gordon kicked it, landing in a heap on the filthy tile floor. There was a lone, dingy bulb flickering in the tiny kitchen.

"Eddie Balcom! Police! Come out with your hands in the air!" Gordon bellowed, scanning through the darkness back and forth like a predator. Nothing but grim silence answered him. The curtain on the far living room wall billowed inward like phantoms, fueled by the stale hot air from the city outside. Gordon quickly ran to the window and threw his head out, looking down, then up. Nothing there.

"Damn it." Gordon cursed under his breath. He grabbed his radio from inside the folds of his jacket, signaling to his backup.

"Unit 23 this is Gordon. We lost him." A blood-curdling scream echoed off the nearby buildings, cutting Gordon off in mid-sentence. He knew that sound. "Stand by." He said to the small radio, turning his attention to the rooftop. He watched the form of his informant, Eddie Balcom come hurtling over the edge of the building, hanging by his left ankle. Holding him in place was the silhouette of Gotham's Dark Knight himself.

"Tell me what you know about the kidnappings, Balcom." The Batman growled.

"I don't know anything! I swear!" Eddie answered back, flailing like a wounded trout, trying desperately to grab ahold of anything he could to save himself.

The Batman narrowed his eyes and loosened his grip on Balcom's ankle, letting him slip a few inches.

"Jesus! Look, I don't know anything, if I did, I would tell you, I swear to God! Just don't drop me for the love of Christ!"

The Batman considered this for a moment or two, finally pulling the creep up by his ankle and dropping him onto the fire escape below.

"Take him in." He growled to Gordon. The Commissioner nodded and turned his attention to Balcom, who was cowering at his feet.

"I think resisting arrest and obstruction of justice should hold you for a while." Gordon said, striking a match on the metal railing to light his cigar. "You going to keep looking for leads?" He asked, looking up to find himself talking to no one. He shook his head and tossed the match, cuffing Eddie Balcom as they began the long descent to the waiting police cruisers below.

Back at the precinct of the Gotham police department, the main conference room was full of officers, all seated and staring up at the front of the room as their newly appointed criminal psychologist laid out the profile of the kidnapper.

"Our suspect is likely a white male, aged twenty to forty years old with above-average intelligence, working alone. Modus operandi suggests a mild to moderate case of dissociative identity disorder and possible obsessive-compulsive disorder. Chemical traces of chloroform and hydrochloric acid at all five crime scenes suggest at least a basic aptitude in chemistry. No fingerprints or DNA evidence has been collected as of yet, but our suspect doesn't show any signs of stopping anytime soon. I'm sorry we have so little to go on right now, but I do ask for your patience and understanding."

"Dr. Quinzel?" A voice came from the back of the room.

"Yes, Sargent?" Harley replied.

"You said this guy isn't planning on giving up the kidnappings anytime soon. How can you be sure?"

"I know the type. He isn't going to stop until you guys stop him. Trust me." She said with a smile. "Okay, boys, that's all for today. Be careful out there!" Harley collected her paperwork as the officers filed out of the room and back to their desks. She had to admit, she had been just as surprised as anyone when Jim Gordon had asked her to be the precinct's new criminal profiler, but she was qualified for the job, after all. And besides, it was a chance for her to use her brain. Something she had been sorely missing for years now.

Harley dropped off a copy of her profile work at Gordon's desk before grabbing a cup of coffee and heading to her own office. She only worked here a couple of nights a week, but Gordon had insisted on giving her an office of her very own. He had said something along the lines of it being her 'reward' for going straight and getting out of Arkham.

Harley shut her door behind her and locked it, careful to put her little 'office hours are over' sign on the outside of the room. The office wasn't anything luxurious, but it was fairly secluded and had a pretty decent view of the city. She had gone about getting a few little decorations for the place, like a cute little sign on her desk that said 'the doctor is in.' Ivy had even given her a little ficus tree.

Harley set her coffee down and peeled her blouse off, followed by the damned torture device called a bra. If there was anything she hated about this job, it was the stupid uniform. She took the time to open her window and let in some fresh air before walking across the room to a small, free-standing locker where she kept a change of clothes. She then shimmied out of the long skirt she was forced to wear, throwing that into the locker as well. She wore no underwear beneath it. It was too damned hot to be wearing panties. Harley bent over and grabbed her duffel bag from the locker, going through it and picking out something that wasn't going to constrict her like a snake in this heat.

"Now there's a million-dollar view if I ever saw one."

Harley instantly recognized the voice and smiled as she turned to find her beloved Nightwing perched on her windowsill.

"Hiya, Bluebird. You come all the way across town to spy on me at work?" She teased.

He smiled and let himself in, tossing his mask onto her desk. "With good reason, from the looks of it." He stole a swig of her coffee and made a terrible face. "How can you drink that? It's almost ninety degrees outside."

"It helps me stay awake for the night shift." She giggled as she made her way over to her desk and kissed him.

"Doesn't red bull do the same thing?" He asked.

"Doesn't agree with me. Did you find anything out?"

"Not much. Bruce got ahold of Gordon's informant a while ago, who didn't tell us anything we didn't already know and Tim's on lockdown for the night. How about you?"

Harley reached around Dick and grabbed her profile, handing it to him as she pulled on a pair of denim shorts and a black tank top.

"This narrows it down a little bit. Two-Face maybe?"

"No." Harley replied. "Not Harvey's style. If it were him, he'd be kidnapping them two at a time and the victims would probably be from drastically different walks of life."

"Good call." Dick said, setting the report back on Harley's desk. "So what time you get out of here again?"

"Twenty minutes. Go beat up some bad guys and I'll meet you at home." She kissed him again as he grabbed his mask and headed for the window. "Bluebird?"

"Yeah, babe?"

"You know we've got less than a month before the wedding, right? We need to start hammering some things out soon."

"Not a problem. We'll spend the day on it tomorrow. Promise." He replied as he dove out the window into the oppressive summer heat.

Harley watched him from the window as her dashing hero swung from rooftop to rooftop until she couldn't see him anymore. She turned and took a sip of her coffee and made an equally awful face. She tossed the cup into the trash can and flung her door open.

"Can somebody get me a red bull?"

Beneath the rocky shoreline of Gotham North, Bruce Wayne sat in front of his computer monitors, reading the profile Harley had just faxed him. It sounded plausible, given what little information they had to go on regarding this mysterious kidnapper.

Bruce read through the document over and over, wracking his brain trying to come up with a name that fit. There were plenty of them; the trouble was narrowing it down. He opted for a different approach.

Bruce opened a custom-made program on his computer and input the data from the profile, then ran it against all recorded inmates that had ever been processed at Arkham Asylum. The computer chirped in compliance and began compiling the possible outcomes. Bruce folded his hands and waited.

"Bruce!" A familiar female voice rang throughout the cave, instantly drawing his attention. He found a pretty, twenty-something woman with auburn hair and haunting gray eyes, walking toward him with a smile on her face and her arms outstretched to hug him.

"Barbara. It's nice to see you." He stood and hugged her. It had been over two years since Barbara Gordon had set foot in the city. She had gone off to pursue some kind of criminal justice course at a college in Metropolis. "When did you get back?"

"This morning. Dad told me all about the kidnappings, figured you guys could use a hand. I assume my suit is still here?"

"Of course. We could use all the help we could get. Have you spoken to anyone else yet?"

"No. You're the first. Couldn't track down Tim or Dick." Barbara's voice fell slightly when she mentioned Dick's name. It wasn't surprising, given their history. This reminded Bruce that Barbara had no idea about Dick and Harley, or their upcoming wedding. He wasn't about to open that can of worms, though.

"So what are you working on?" Barbara asked, turning her attention to the computer monitors.

"I'm running a comparison of Arkham inmates against the data compiled into the department's criminal profile. Hopefully, this will narrow down our list of suspects."

"That's right; dad mentioned something about the department finally getting a profiler on payroll. So who compiled the report?"

"Harleen Quinzel."

Barbara stopped and stared at Bruce as if he had six heads. "Harley Quinn's working for the police department? When did she even get out of Arkham?"

"Ten months ago next week."

Barbara looked extremely surprised. "No incidents since then?"

"She was actually responsible for putting the Joker back behind bars about six months ago. That's a big part of what landed her the job working for your father."

Barbara took a silent moment to let all of this sink in and found that she was actually quite impressed. "Good for her. So you want me to keep my ear to the ground, see if anything comes up?"

"Sure." Bruce replied, turning his attention back to the computer.

"Okay then, I'll be in touch." Barbara waved and let herself out as Bruce's computer chimed that the program had completed and come back with four possible matches.

Match one: Wesker, Arnold J. Alias- the Ventriloquist. Status: Released

Bruce highly doubted that Wesker was behind these recent kidnappings. There was nothing for him to gain from it, monetarily speaking, and while the man was crazy, he didn't inflict pain on people for the pure enjoyment of it.

Match two: Nygma, Edward T. Alias – the Riddler. Status: Incarcerated

Nygma was still locked up in Arkham, so Bruce immediately disregarded this piece of information.

Match three: Elliott, Thomas C. Alias – Hush. Status: At large, no outstanding warrants

Bruce sat forward in his chair and read over the name three times. Tommy Elliott did indeed fit the profile, but he hadn't set foot in Gotham for almost five years now. If he was indeed behind this, why now? What was the game? Bruce pondered this for a moment or two and finally clicked the mouse to bring up the final name. When it came up on screen, Bruce's eyes went wide with shock. It couldn't be…

Across town, a train pulled into Gotham station, the metallic clanks echoing throughout the ancient building. The doors slid open into the empty station like the teeth of an enormous steel serpent. Only one man got off before the train sped back into the night. A man who was feared throughout the streets of Gotham City by both the lawful and the lawless. A man who had, in his youth, fought crime on these very streets. But those days were far behind him now. He was here for an entirely different purpose.

His heavy boots scraped the sidewalk outside Gotham station as he scanned the area and smiled.

"Home sweet home."

Match four: Todd, Jason M. Alias – The Red Hood. Status: WANTED


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

It was well past ten when Harley finally let herself into the apartment, the darkened corridors and corners of the place illuminated by the ethereal glow that hung in the Gotham sky outside. She flicked on the light and set her bag down on the couch, letting out a deep breath as she glanced out the picture window at the skyline. She knew her Bluebird was out there somewhere, trying desperately to find an answer to this hellish kidnapping that had plagued them all over the past three months.

Harley pushed the thoughts out of her head. There was no sense in worrying about Dick. He was a big boy and he could handle himself, he had proven that much. As far as the kidnappings, it was best to leave work at work. Besides, she had nearly burned herself out working on the profile as it was. She needed to take a little time to relax and clear her head.

She headed for the kitchen and poured herself a glass of wine, turning her thoughts to the upcoming wedding. It was hard to believe that it was only a month away already. Bruce had taken care of most of it, insisting that they use the gardens at Wayne Manor for the ceremony itself. She and Dick still had a lot of work to do, however. As it turned out, planning a wedding and fulfilling duties as crime-fighters wasn't easy.

"Christ, could it get any hotter?" Harley cursed to herself as she got up and walked back into the living room, cranking the air conditioning and stripping out of the shorts and tank top she had been wearing. She stood there, relishing in the chilly air as it wrapped itself around her like a cool blanket, seeming to wash away her worries and stresses. She smiled to herself and wandered down the hallway to get a much-needed shower.

Sometime later, Harley emerged, her hair still very damp, to find Dick in the kitchen, holding an icepack to his face. She was immediately relieved to see him, but couldn't help but worry.

"What happened?" She asked, hurrying to his side.

"Nothing major, just caught a mean right hook from some creep. He's in worse shape, believe me." He replied with a smile.

"Still, you need to be careful." Harley said, pulling the icepack away to reveal an already nasty-looking black eye. She winced at the sight of it and laid a gentle kiss on his cheek. "Hope you kicked his ass."

"That I did." He replied, returning a kiss to her lips. "How was work?" He asked, setting down the icepack to peel off the upper portion of his suit.

"Long, boring and hotter than hell." She answered. "I swear, those people are allergic to air conditioning." She turned to face him and was caught with the sight of him. Naked from the waist up, black eye, bruising to his ribs, sweat gleaming off his muscular frame. Good God was he sexy. Harley shook her head. Almost seven months and he still made her knees weak.

"You should probably go finish drying off. I've got to get this stuff put away." He gestured to his suit. Harley nodded in agreement and headed for the bathroom. Dick made his way into the bedroom, twisting the coat hook that let him into his little hideaway. He replaced his suit to its hangar and grabbed a pair of track pants, slipping them on before he let himself back out.

Harley had tied her hair back and slid into a short sundress and was planted in front of the TV, watching the news report intently, digging for any new information regarding the kidnappings. Dick was on his way to the kitchen when a loud knock came at the door. Harley and Dick both looked at each other for a moment before Dick walked over and answered it.

"Barbara?"

"Hey, Dick. You're a hard man to track down these days."

"When did you get back?"

"Two days ago. You going to invite me in?"

"Oh! Yeah, come on in." Dick gestured.

Barbara wandered in, taking a moment to look around and see what had changed since she had left, when her gaze fell upon a pretty blonde, seated comfortably on the couch. For a moment or two, Barbara found herself unable to think at all. It couldn't be, could it? There was no way.

"I'm sorry, Dick, I didn't realize you had company." Barbara said, trying her best not to sound condescending.

"No, it's not a problem, Barb. Harley, this is Barbara Gordon, Jim's daughter. Barb, You know Dr. Quinzel."

"Yeah. I'd say I do." Barbara remarked coldly.

Harley stood and extended her hand, which Barbara reluctantly took.

"Nice to meet you." Harley said with a smile.

Dick, sensing the tension, turned to Harley. "Could you give us a minute or two to catch up?"

"Sure." Harley Replied, turning and heading for the bedroom.

As soon as Harley was out of eyeshot, Barbara turned very slowly to face Dick, her expression icy.

"Would you mind explaining to me what Harley Quinn is doing nestled up on your couch?" She asked coldly.

"She lives here, Barb. She has for a while now." Dick said calmly, watching Barbara's eyes grow wider and wider.

"So the two of you are…"

"Yeah." Dick replied. "Is that a problem?"

"You tell me. She's only one of the city's most dangerous criminals."

"Was." Dick corrected her. "She's been clear for almost a year now."

"But still… you and her?"

Dick paused for a second or two, cocking an eyebrow. "Do I detect a hint of jealousy, Barbara?"

"No, not jealousy, concern. In what reality does this end well, Dick?"

"Look, I get it. I understand the concern. But believe me, I've already heard this little tune from Tim. I know what I'm doing."

"I sincerely doubt that. I know this is going to blow up in your face, Dick and I'm going to have to pick up the pieces."

There was a long moment of silence as Dick studied her face, taking into account what she had said, and the underlying meaning of it.

"You're going to have to pick up the pieces? What is that supposed to mean? That I'm just biding my time with Harley until you came back? I don't mean to come across like an asshole, Barb, but you left me, remember? I moved on. If anyone's picking up the pieces, it's Harley. So don't come in here and make yourself out to be the center of my universe."

"Dick, I just don't want to see you make a mistake."

"It's none of your business anymore!" Dick shouted. "I've had it up to here with people insinuating that she has some grand scheme to corrupt me. I love her. I trust her. That's all that matters."

"Look, I didn't mean to come in here and make accusations. If you say you've got your life in hand, then I believe you. I know you can take care of yourself. But Harley…"

"What about her? You don't trust her? Join the club. Half the city doesn't trust her. It took her a long time to figure out that she doesn't care if people trust her anymore. All she can do is prove people like you wrong. And she will."

Barbara was silent for a long moment before looking back up into Dick's cobalt blue eyes.

"I'm sorry. But put yourself in my position. What am I supposed to do in this kind of situation?"

"A normal friend might be happy for me." Dick replied .

"I'm trying. In the meantime, what can I do to make it up to you?"

"Go talk to Bruce. Maybe you can help with the wedding."

"Wedding!?"

"That's right. Next month." Dick said calmly, waiting for the inevitable explosion of emotion. But it never came. Barbara took another long silent moment, intently studying the floorboards of Dick's living room.

"I think I'm going to go now."

Dick searched for something to say to defuse the situation and not leave it on as rotten a note as it seemed to be, but couldn't think of anything as he watched Barbara walk out the door.

Elsewhere in Gotham City, Jason Todd walked the streets. He walked as he had walked in his youth, contemplating and considering the consequences and outcomes of every decision he had ever made, both good and bad. He though back to the first time he had laid eyes on the Batman, glaring at him as he held the tires of the batmobile in his grease-covered hands, a mixture of shock, awe and fear painted plainly on his face. He had been a different person back then, nothing but a punk kid, spat forth by the corruption and shitty circumstances that this city had dealt him.

Jason stopped and lit a cigarette, watching the smoke billow and curl with the stifling summer wind. He though back on how the Batman had took him in, pitying him. He though back to the grueling training he had been subjected to. The pain, the humiliation the defeat he had felt when time after time he had been beaten back during those long months of training.

Jason's mind then wandered to the few short years he had spent as Robin, fighting side by side with the batman himself. He remembered the lectures and speeches about how he was too tough on criminals, about how he needed to show restraint and think before he acted. He remembered the rage that had built inside him.

The truth was, he now understood that Bruce was trying to make him a better man. Jason had been too stubborn, too hardened by the years he had spent on the street, too proud to listen.

Then everything had changed. When the Joker had beaten him to within an inch of his life, then left him to die in that explosion. Everything had been over in that brief, blinding second. Except it wasn't. He had returned, bursting forth from the Lazarus Pit, a trillion thoughts swirling through his fractured mind all at once. It had been impossible to cling to any kind of sense or reason. Then only thing he had been sure of was that he had to return to Gotham. He had to return home.

Jason stopped and gazed down a long stretch of road, watching the people as they went on their way. It was hard to believe that people still lived in this part of town, considering everything that had happened. When he thought back on all the criminals he had brought to justice during his time with Batman and looked at the city now, it really was disheartening to see how little things had actually changed. It made you wonder why they had even bothered in the first place.

That was the exact mentality that he had had when he had returned to Gotham. The corruption and chaos were still evident everywhere you looked. Nothing had changed. Why bother. It had become crystal clear to Jason in that instant. Criminals would never stop out of fear of incarceration or the police, or even Batman. They would always find a way to carry on, to endure. That was why he did what he had done.

Countless criminals, drug dealers, mob bosses, pimps, Jason had executed more than he could remember. There was a hell of a lot of blood still on his hands. Too much. It had taken years, but Jason had finally realized that Bruce was right. He always had been. Killing these scumbags didn't solve anything. All it did was lower Jason down to their level. He had allowed himself to become nothing but a murderer. Was that something a man could come back from?

There was a brief moment that Jason spent, staring out across the dirty streets of east Gotham, wondering if this was even worth his time. There was no way Bruce could ever forgive him, was there? There sure as hell wasn't any way for him to change what he had done. Once the blood was on your hands, it was impossible to wash off.

But then again, if there was anyone who could help him, who could make him what he was again, it was Bruce.

Jason took one last puff from the cigarette and dropped it to the concrete, a trillion thoughts still swirling through his head as he walked deeper and deeper into the night.

The echoes of every tiny sound bounced off the stone and metal walls of the building like phantoms. The darkness was broken only by the tiny bulbs of security lights, all of them encased in steel-wired cages. Bits of stuffing from the filthy mattress were scattered all across the filthy concrete floor. Shreds of newspaper and blurry, black-and-white photos clung to the grimy walls. It was a fairly quiet night in Arkham Asylum. But not for long.

The Joker sat upon the skeletal frame of what had once been his bed, staring blankly up at the walls, studying the text in the newspaper clipping. Harley, his Harley was getting married in less than a month's time to one Richard Grayson. It defied comprehension. Why would his girl betray him like she had? He had given her everything and she had spat in his face. Now she was not only getting married to this clod, but she was working with the police? It wasn't funny. Not even to him.

The Joker stared meticulously, studying the face of this Grayson character. It was him. Grayson had turned Harley against him. It was the only logical explanation for this betrayal. No doubt that this pretty-boy was the one behind the mask of Nightwing. The conniving bastard that had thwarted him during their last encounter was the same man that had stolen Harley from him. That worked out just splendidly. It saved Joker the trouble of tracking him down once he got out of this hellhole. Which wouldn't be long now. All it would take was the right amount of muscle.

In the silence of Arkhams hallways, the gleeful laughter of the Joker rang out eerily through the darkness, a harbinger of things to come…


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

The interior of the Wayne Enterprises building was cheerful and buzzing with excitement regarding the upcoming Wayne charity ball. The party was always the highlight of the year as far as the employees were concerned. Everyone was idly chatting about who they were bringing or what they would be wearing.

On the uppermost floor of the building, however, Bruce Wayne was in a very different mood. He was hunched over his desk, his hands folded neatly under his chin as he studied the security cameras near the most recent kidnapping sight, looking for anything suspicious that might give him a lead. Only on a few rare occasions had a case eluded him this way. He had almost forgotten how infuriating it was. Every few moments or so, he would pause the video feed and scribble something on a notepad, so that it would appear that he actually cared about the upcoming charity event. He would have to attend, of course. At least for a little while.

The door of his office opened to reveal Dick Grayson, carrying a drink holder full of coffee in one hand and a stack of papers in the other.

"Got the new specs from R&D you asked for." Dick said, setting a cup down on Bruce's desk. "Any leads so far?"

"No." Bruce replied bluntly, taking a sip from the cup. He took the papers from Dick's hands and looked them over briefly before setting them down. "Go back to R&D and get me a full set of schematics for each of these."

"Sure thing." Dick said, turning and heading back out the door as Bruce turned his attention back to the security footage, only to have the phone ring. He took a moment to glare at the receiver before finally answering it.

"Wayne."

"Hello, Bruce." Jason's voice answered, causing Bruce's eyes to go wide.

"Jason? Where are you?"

"I'm here, in town."

"You're a wanted man, Jason."

"I'm well aware. Which is why I'm calling."

"I'm listening." Bruce replied.

"I want to meet up, Bruce. I want to talk."

"We're talking now, aren't we?"

"In person, Bruce. I've been doing a lot of thinking and there's a few things I need to get off my chest. Particularly the way things ended between the two of us the last time we spoke."

"The last time we spoke, I begged you to let me help you." Bruce said, his eyes narrowing as he spoke.

"I know. I should have let you. I realize that now."

There was a moment of silence between the two of them, before Bruce finally spoke. "What are you saying, Jason?"

"I'm saying that I'm done, Bruce. I need help."

Bruce took another long moment to process this. It was probably a trap, but he couldn't afford not to show up. If there was even a slight chance that Jason was serious, Bruce couldn't afford to ignore it.

"When and where?"

"Tonight at midnight. The Monarch Theatre."

"I'll be there." Bruce replied. His only answer was the audible click of the call ending.

Bruce hung up the phone and sat in silence, considering the outcome of their impending meeting. The last time he and Jason had been face to face, Jason had been hell-bent on murdering the Joker. He had tried to make Bruce choose between the two of them. Needless to say, it hadn't ended well for anyone involved.

That had been the last time Bruce had seen or heard from Jason. But if he was indeed back in Gotham now, trying to lay out some intimate trap, what was the outcome? Was Jason really the one behind these kidnappings? If so, what was he hoping to gain? And why would Jason contact him directly if he had something to hide?

Too many questions and no answers in sight. The only way Bruce was going to get any peace of mind was to cater to Jason's demands and meet with him. No matter how dangerous it might be.

Across town, Harley was out on her own, window shopping for the perfect dress. She was hesitant about the whole 'white gown' thing, though. It just didn't suit her. She needed something with some color to it. But which color was the question.

She strolled the streets of Gotham, wearing a pair of denim cutoffs that left just enough to the imagination, a tight black tank top with a white button-down shirt tied above her waist with a pair of black Converse sneakers. Her blonde hair, even lighter now, thanks to the summer sun, was tied up in her trademark pigtails and cascaded down either shoulder.

Harley walked past shop after shop, boutique after boutique and nothing caught her eye. She was beginning to think she would never find the right dress. She was about to round the corner down another street when a familiar voice caught her attention. She turned to find Tim Drake seated at an outdoor table at a little café with the same girl that had shown up at the apartment the other night. Harley got the distinct impression that this Barbara didn't like her too much.

"Come on, Barb. At least give her a chance, Harley's worked her ass off to get where she is today." Tim said.

They were talking about her! Harley moved in a bit closer to eavesdrop just a little. After all, it never hurt to know what other people's opinions were.

"I don't care how hard she's worked, I don't trust her. Her criminal record is a mile long and I don't like the idea of her hanging around police headquarters, let alone shacking up with Dick." Barbara shot back.

"And this has nothing whatsoever to do with your past relationship?" Tim asked with a sly smirk on his face.

"It's not about that, Tim. It's about common sense. Harley is dangerous. She's proven that on more than one occasion. All it takes is for one of you guys to let your guard down and she'll seize the opportunity, mark my words."

"What a bitch!" Harley whispered to herself.

"Then why hasn't she, Barb? She's had plenty of time to spring a trap on Dick or me or Bruce, but she hasn't. Why do you think that is?

Bruce? This Barbara girl knew about the three of them? Harley though about it for a few minutes and put two and two together. Of course! This girl must be the other member of the team. Batgirl.

"She was shacked up with the Joker for years, Tim. Can you think of another person who's more talented at biding their time and laying out intricate plans? Plus she's a psychologist. If anyone knows how to put up a convincing front, it's a psychologist."

This Barbara girl was beginning to get on Harley's nerves. Having doubts was one thing, but this girl was flat out accusing her of manipulation and lying!

"Barb, trust me. Harley's on the level. In case you've forgotten, she was the one who put Joker back in Arkham this past January."

"Exactly. She's obsessed with the Joker for years, then all of a sudden pulls a one eighty and throws him behind bars? Something doesn't smell right to me."

"You're jumping to conclusions, Barbara. Give it time and you'll see. She's on our side."

"On our side? What the hell is going on around here? I go off to college for a couple of years and everyone loses their minds! Harley's working at the police department and engaged to Dick? She's working alongside you and Bruce? What part of this is right? She's a danger to everyone around her and they never should have let her out of Arkham!"

"Ouch." Harley said softly. She felt the old familiar sting of self-doubt creep into her mind. Wasn't she past all of this crap? She had a respectable job, a wonderful fiancée and a group of people that cared about her. Still, she had done a lot of horrible things, to this girl in particular. The two of them had traded plenty of blows during her criminal days, sure. But just recently, Harley had gotten close to Barbara's friends, gotten a job under Barbara's father, and was engaged to Barbara's ex. Damn. No wonder she was pissed.

Harley had heard enough. Convinced that this Barbara girl would never accept her, Harley turned and trudged away. Maybe it was for the best. Maybe Barbara was right. Maybe Harley didn't deserve any of this happiness. After all, she had never really made up for all the terrible things she had done to the people of Gotham city. Sure she had put Joker behind bars, but that didn't make everything she had done disappear, did it?

Harley held her head low as she walked through the city, a million thoughts of guilt, doubt and consequences filled her head. She needed to talk to someone. A shrink needing a shrink. That thought brought a small smile to her face as she pulled out her cell phone and dialed a familiar number.

"Hey, Red? Can I come over?"

Hours later and night had fallen over Gotham. Dick Grayson, in full Nightwing attire, was perched upon the roof of the Gotham history museum, staring across the rooftops at the west end of the city. Somewhere out there, somebody knew something about these kidnappings. And Nightwing intended to find out.

He began his descent, springing from rooftop to rooftop, getting ever closer to the ground as he went, until he finally found solid pavement beneath his feet.

The Bowery. A nasty slice of Gotham that was still as filthy and crime-ridden as ever. If there was anyone who had a lead on these kidnappings, chances are they were here in the Bowery.

It wasn't long before Nightwing came upon his prey. A group of gang members were trying to silently pick the lock of a storefront. From the looks of them, they worked for the Black Mask. He wasn't on their list of suspects, but that didn't mean that his lackeys couldn't have seen anything.

Nightwing silently made his way onto the roof of the store the thugs were trying to get into.

"Isn't it a school night?" He taunted, drawing their attention as he dropped down onto one of them, knocking his head against the concrete steps hard enough to put him out cold. The other three turned tail and ran. But with a flick of his wrists, Nightwing had two of them by the ankles, dragging them back to the storefront, where he secured them to a streetlight.

"Now don't go anywhere." He remarked before sprinting off after their accomplice. He had made it roughly a block. Nightwing watched him for a moment from a rooftop. The idiot didn't seem to have any particular destination in mind, so Nightwing provided him with some motivation. A well-tossed Flash grenade went off in the thug's eyes, temporarily blinding him as he tried to turn and run the other way, and promptly sprinted face-first into a telephone pole. Nightwing hopped from the rooftop with an amused smirk on his face and calmly walked up to the prone form of the clumsy gang member.

"What can you tell me about the kidnappings?" Nightwing asked, looking down at the confused face of the man.

"What?" The goon replied, obviously disoriented. Nightwing sternly pulled him to his feet and backed him against the telephone pole.

"The kidnappings. Six of them over the past few months. What do you know about them?"

"I know nothin' I swear!" The thug yelled.

Nightwing activated a small switch on one of his escrima sticks and made sure the thug could see the little blue arc of electricity play along the end of it.

"You sure?" He asked, cocking an eyebrow at the thug.

"Oh, those kidnappings! Yeah, I saw one of the girls get snatched about three weeks ago. Over near the Iceberg Lounge. You ask me, Penguin's behind it."

"The Iceberg Lounge." Nightwing confirmed with a smile. "Thanks for the info. You've been most helpful."

"Now you're gonna let me go, right?" The thug asked, visibly shaken.

"Sure." Nightwing replied as he let the thug go and turned to walk away. As the goon relaxed a bit, Nightwing fired a cable from the end of his weapon that coiled around the thug like a snake, pinning him to the telephone pole.

"Hey! You said you'd let me go!"

"Sure. In about five to ten for grand larceny." Nightwing remarked before swinging up into the night sky, his hope renewed. It wasn't much, but he had a lead. And that was better than nothing.

Across town, Harley knocked on the door of her best friend. Ivy opened it and welcomed her in with a smile.

"So what's up, Goldilocks? You sounded down on the phone." Ivy asked as she prepared drinks for the two of them.

"It's stupid, Red. I'm just overthinking things again."

"You're a psychologist it's an occupational hazard." Ivy answered, setting a stiff drink down in front of Harley. "So what exactly is it that you're overthinking?"

"Some friend of Dick's said some things that kind of put me off, that's all."

"Is that what this is all about?" Ivy asked. "I thought we were past all this, Harley. You have got to let go and stop caring so much what other people have to say. You know people are going to talk with the reputation people like you and I have. It's just something we have to deal with."

"I know, I know, but it still makes me feel like I haven't gotten anywhere."

Ivy rolled her eyes a bit and took Harley by both hands.

"Look, Harley. Forget anybody else right now. Do you feel like you've made progress since you got out?"

"Yeah, sure." Harley replied.

"And are you happy with where your life is?"

"Of course I am."

"Then what else matters? Fuck what anybody else has to say. You have fought tooth and nail to get where you are and you, as a person, deserve all the happiness in the world. Don't ever let anybody tell you different."

Harley smiled and genuinely felt better. "Thanks, Red."

"Think nothing of it. You know I'm always here if you need anything." Ivy said with a smile and refilled both their glasses. "So how are wedding things progressing?"

"Slowly, what with the case and everything. A good portion of it's done already, but I still need a dress."

"You know it's traditional to do your dress shopping with your maid of honor, right?" Ivy asked.

"Really?"

"No, but doesn't it sound more fun than doing it all by yourself?"

"Yeah."

"So are you heading home at some point or were you planning on crashing here?"

"I'll probably just make a night of it here, if you don't mind. Bluebird's off gallivanting so I'll pretty much be by myself if I head home." Harley replied.

"You know my doors are always open." Ivy replied with a smile.

"Great. In that case, I could use a shower."

"Mind if I join you?" Ivy asked coyly.

Harley stopped for a moment, then smiled at her friend.

"Nothing clean will come of what you have in mind." Harley said with a grin.

"Nope." Ivy replied, leaning across the table to lay a kiss on Harley's lips. It had been some time since the two of them had had one of their romps together and Harley had forgotten how soft Ivy's lips actually were. There was a quick mingling of tongues before Harley pulled back and stood up heading for the bathroom.

"You're not worried about your boyfriend are you, Goldilocks?" Ivy called after her.

"Worried?" Harley replied. "He encourages this kind of behavior. After all it's not like I'm out with some other guy."

"A very valid point." Ivy said to herself as she stood and walked to the bathroom to join Harley. When she got there, the shower was already running and Harley had not a stitch on. Ivy took a moment to appreciate the view. It had been a long time since she had gotten to appreciate it.

There was a slight pull of sadness in the back of Ivy's mind, knowing that Harley was about to be married off. Over the years Ivy had developed feelings for the girl that weren't quite romantic love, but weren't quite anything else, either. There was a definite physical attraction between the two of them and Ivy couldn't say much about the emotional aspect on Harley's half, but Ivy had always felt… right with Harley. It had always been fun, the two of them had always gotten along and they had always been able to talk to one another. And lord knows they had always been able to break into spontaneous nights like this. There was no one else that Ivy had ever felt the same connection to that she did with Harley and as far as Ivy was concerned… this was the only kind of love she needed.

The moment passed and Ivy walked across the room, tossing her clothes as she went to join Harley in the shower she took the time to run her hands all along the slick, soft surface of Harley's pale skin as she stole another kiss from her. A long, deep, passionate kiss that was all tongues and longing for one another. Harley's hands were exploring the familiar surface of Ivy's soft skin, brushing both her nipples playfully.

This brought a soft moan from Ivy, who broke their kiss and threw her red hair back and stared into Harley's dazzling sapphire eyes with desire. Harley stared right back, a gleeful smile on her face as she studied the range of expressions Ivy went through as Harley trailed her fingers ever so gently over Ivy's most intimate parts.

Ivy was panting out soft moans as Harley ran her fingers back and forth along Ivy's clit, all the while Ivy had both of Harley's nipples, pinching and twisting them playfully. Without warning, Harley plunged a finger deep inside Ivy and she was wracked with a sudden wave of ecstasy as Harley slowly drew it back out and plunged it in again just as deep, continuing to do little circles against Ivy's clit with her thumb.

When Ivy was just on the edge of exploding, she shoved Harley back against the shower wall and dropped to her knees, hungrily wrapping her mouth around Harley's clit, drawing a loud moan from her. Ivy lovingly ran her tongue along the entire length of Harley's opening, savoring the sweetness before burying her tongue inside. Harley again cried out in pleasure, this time much louder as Ivy thrust her tongue into her again and again, stopping every so often to venture back to her swollen clit.

Harley felt a massive wave of pleasure wrack her entire body and she screamed in ecstacy, bucking her hips against Ivy's mouth as she exploded. Ivy savored the moment and never lost speed, bringing her to the brink again almost instantly. Harley again bucked wildly against Ivy's lips, begging her not to stop as Ivy again penetrated Harley with the length of her tongue, savoring every sweet drop.

Harley fell to her knees, still quaking from the orgasm when Ivy met her with another passionate kiss, which Harley hungrily accepted before pushing Ivy onto her back. Harley immediately ran her tongue along the inner part of Ivy's thighs, relishing in the moans it elicited from her. Harley then playfully ran her tongue in circles around Ivy's clit before taking it into her mouth, causing Ivy to arch her back and cry out in pleasure. Harley smiled at this and took the opportunity to ram her tongue into Ivy, drawing a euphoric gasp from her. Harley eagerly flicked her tongue in and out, wanting desperately to drive Ivy over the edge. She withdrew and went back to Ivy's clit, sucking it between her lips while her free hand found Ivy's nipple and drew another cry from her.

Within moments, Harley had Ivy screaming as she sucked on her clit, her other hand furiously pumping two fingers in and out of her. Ivy's back was arched again as she exploded into Harley's mouth. Her heart hammering against her chest. Harley slowly rose up onto all fours and hovered over Ivy, a dopey smile on her face. Ivy chuckled at her and planted one last kiss on her before Harley helped her to her feet.

"You miss me that much, Red?" Harley asked, the fuzzy edge of sex still glossing over her eyes.

"Yes. Yes I did." Ivy replied with a very satisfied smile.

The church bells were ringing midnight as the Batman stood on the north edge of the roof of the Monarch Theatre, scanning the environment for any movement. Waiting for some kind of trap to be sprung. He had clung to hope that Jason was being sincere. That his old protégé truly did want forgiveness.

"Bruce. I'm glad you came." Jason's voice came from the south edge of the roof. He wore a simple pair of jeans, black boots, a white T-shirt and a brown leather jacket. His black hair had gotten longer. He wore no mask or telltale red helmet and he didn't appear to be carrying any weapons.

"Jason." The Batman said sternly, turning to face him properly. "What is this all about?"

"I've been running too long, Bruce. Running with no place to really run to. I have nobody to turn to for help. Nobody except you."

"Are you trying to say that you're ready to turn yourself in?"

"If that's what it takes, yes." Jason replied without a hint of hesitation.

"Why now? Why couldn't you have come to me before all this madness happened? Before you killed all those people?"

"You don't know what it was like." Jason replied, unconsciously turning his gaze to the ground. "When I came back, there was no order to anything . My brain was nothing but a fog bank. No cohesive thoughts or clear notions of right and wrong. Nothing made sense. I think it was the pit. It brought my body back, but it took time for the rest of me to catch up. I can't take back the things I've done, Bruce. All I can do is try and pay for them. And that starts with me telling you that I'm sorry."

Behind the grim exterior of the Batman, Bruce's eyes softened a bit. He wanted so badly to believe that Jason was being sincere. But could he trust him?

"I'm sorry for the position that I put you in. And I'm sorry that I blamed you for my own weakness. I want to be a better man, Bruce, I do. But I can't do it alone. If my path to redemption starts with you taking me to Arkham, so be it. I'll do whatever it takes. But it has to be you. I won't let the cops take me in, they haven't earned that. "

There was a quiet moment between the two of them as the Batman contemplated his course of action.

"Fair enough. You come with me, do a stint in Arkham, we'll call it even."

"Great. Let's go." Jason replied, taking a few steps toward the Batman.

A sudden, bloodcurdling scream echoed off the walls of the nearby buildings, drwing both men's attention.

"Stay here!" the Batman yelled as he dove off the rooftops onto the streets below, where he found a single size 6 women's shoe. Another kidnapping. He immediately scanned the environment and found nothing of note. No tire tracks, no trace vapors in the air, nothing. A sudden glint of light off a streetlamp caught something on the ground nearby and the batman didn't hesitate to scoop it up and examine it. It was definitely metallic and had a sharpened edge to it, though the curvature didn't seem to suggest a knife blade. The tip of a scalpel, perhaps? If so, it suggested that the kidnapper had some degree of medical knowledge. Which only strengthened the Batman's suspicions regarding Tommy Elliot.

The Batman once again ascended the Monarch Theatre, finding nothing but a note, pinned down by a loose chunk of concrete.

_ Bruce._

_ Cops will be here soon, no doubt, can't take the chance that they'll spot me. I meant what I said. Only you have earned the right to take me in, if that's what you really want. I won't be hard to find, if you know where to look._

_ -Jason_

The Batman tucked the note away and gazed out over the city, for the first time conflicted about what he truly believed. Was Jason really ready to come home? Or was this all a part of something bigger?


End file.
